


Two Is Better than One

by tarouhi



Series: Behind Your Truths and Lies [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Though Tom doesn't show up until way later, Tom's a better human than Dumbledore apparently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 22:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16983078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarouhi/pseuds/tarouhi
Summary: A new pair of twins burst into the magical castle of Hogwarts. Or at least, their magic did, leaving trails of rumors and tales in their wake. One dyed their hair to appear different from the other, but that didn't make the situation any less confusing for the rest of the student body. Especially not for The Boy Who Lived and his supposed rival.





	Two Is Better than One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm aware I start off too many things at once, but why not? I hope you'll enjoy what I've written out of trying to entertain myself. Things may seem overwhelming or confusing at first, but answers will be given soon enough!

Just as he had before, he keeps his hand entangled with his brother's. He might've called it a way to prevent them losing each other in the crowd, but both of them knew they needed a familiar anchor in the unfamiliar place that would soon become their home along with others. That suited him just fine. Despite the silence, he knew of his twin's response, and sent a reassuring squeeze with no real strength. Together as one, they blended into the background before being ushered- with the masses- into the Great Hall. Unlike the first years that expressed their amazement without restraint, the pair slid into their blank looks easily, until one of them was addressed by the deputy headmistress.

 

 

 

"Valliere, Anzai!" The name rolled off her tongue strangely, as if she was unsure of how to pronounce it, but made an effort to not show her reluctance. With an immense amount of reluctance, the blonde of the two let go of the other, pushing himself up with a faked smile and dips his head in a nod to his brother before stepping towards a worn, old hat on a stool before the headmaster and the professors. Some hid their confusion better than others, but Anzai saw through them all the same, though he doesn't glorify his existence with a response to their looks.

 

The silvernette left standing in the hall on the sideline curls his lips out of concealed jitteriness but does nothing more than shift his feet. He thinks he might faint right then and there, muttering about bluffed security while contemplating ways to end his devious brother 10 times over when the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" It doesn't help that the rest of the student body freeze over at the addition of a snake in their school. He scoffs, thoroughly disappointed at the blatant rivalry. Not even a day has passed since he came here.

 

A satisfied smirk took over Anzai's face before he properly smothered it as he settles in Slytherin's table, the others silently shuffling to make room. The younger years seemed baffled, save for a specific group of second years, supposedly 'led' by Draco Malfoy. Fifth years- and above- was about the same, though mixed with amusement. Based on appearance alone, their new housemate _was_ quite attractive, gold-like blonde locks of hair with perfectly pitch black nails (that some girls drawled over) and an aloof look on the slightly adorable face, he was a perfect fit to his house. Though at the same time, a boy that looked like he could be knocked over by a breeze did just end up sorted into a place of cunning and ambition. The more daring, or otherwise known as nearly three-fourths of Slytherin, pull at the corners of their lips in anticipation but never smiles. Because Slytherins simply do not smile.

 

"Valliere, Nagi!" McGonagall's voice was smoother than before, and Nagi silently mused that she most likely mulled over the names on repeat. When he pulls the rim of the hat over his turquoise eyes, he's flooded with a dulled piercing sensation. _Splendid. Offering a device of torture to future students._ Nagi sarcastically remarks in his head, and is wonderfully interrupted by a chuckle in his mind. Normally, he would be ecstatic at the display of similar humor, but no sane human would enjoy the privacy of their mind to be ripped apart, thank-you-very-much. Bits and pieces of his life flicker and rippled the surface of his thoughts, even though he wasn't the one to make it that way.  _Quite the_ devious _little brother you have there._ To his subtle surprise, only a spark of amusement remained in the voice that reminded Nagi of the condition of the hat. Worn and overused. _Though the same could be said for you, Anzai._ 'Nagi' sighs, silver hair drifting and covering his eyes. _Of course, a mind-reading, barmy old hat. What did I expect? I'll take your words as a compliment, I suppose._

 

Another voice in his mind hums the same annoying tune he's been trying to forget all these years, dancing upon his miseries and repeating the phrase, "Magic sees all," over and over, to hell with his opinions on the matter. Though Anzai hates to admit such, it's right. He must've blanked because the hat is waiting on him and doesn't miss a beat when it realizes he's out of a trance. _I did hope so. Now... No doubt you are a living copy of him, but you are no less of yourself. Better be..._ "GRYFFINDOR!"

 

 

 

As always, the strange thing shouts its last decision for the rest of the wizards and witches to hear. Anzai pulls the hat off his head, shaking away loose strands that stuck onto his face and refocuses, scanning over the crowded tables. He sees small details, slacked shoulders at the relief of only one Slytherin as an addition, though confusion still plagued their expressions the most. But of course, he and Nagi had strode into the hall with the first years, yet received their sorting for the first time despite seeming older than eleven.

 

 

 

 

Each prefect led their new housemates to their respective common rooms. Anzai twirls his hair in boredom after parting with his brother and follows the too upbeat of a Gryffindor prefect through the hallways. He must've looked out of place, he figures when framed pictures had their eyes glued to his every movement. Though he was a second year, technically, it's still his first time in the castle and would get lost in a heartbeat without help early on. But despite all that, Anzai found himself uncaring of what others thought of him, living or not.

_Oops,_ the boy nonchalantly mutters when the portrait of the Fat Lady (he remembered the prefect introducing with her boisterous tone and all) raised her voice to catch his attention. With a silent sigh, he steps in the common room and her portrait immediately shut in a satisfying slam. Anzai, every intention to escape the curious stares, steps into his dorm after minimal trial and error. But upon entering, and moving towards a newly added bed (because, again, magic), _very_ familiar green eyes behind rounded glasses stared back. Shirtless.

 

As he spun around and stormed down the stairs, Anzai barely thinks about the boy's reaction over the flush of red on his cheeks that was most definitely visible. Once he arrived at the common room, his shoulders were heaving up and down. Another second-year- Neville, he heard the others say?- approached him as a nervous wreck. "Hey, N-Nagi.. are you alright?" Really, he would've appreciated the sentiment if he wasn't trying to fight the faint blush off his face. Though when he pauses and doubles over the other's words, Anzai blinks. Right, he was still 'Nagi' here. Curse his brother.

 

"Anzai. And I'm okay now." Neville's brows furrowed but nodded all the same. The people that the nerve wreck was conversing with earlier glanced towards the two. Anzai catches bushy brown hair with red before his vision was blocked again. Without any other words, Anzai exits, ignoring the hesitant calls from behind him. It was way past curfew, but a little adventure didn't hurt anyone. Nagi would be thinking the same, Anzai knew, though if his counterpart didn't manage to show up, he supposes that he'll at least have some quiet to fling away his thoughts from earlier up in the dorms.

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, that peace was never even close when he bumps into thin air after turning the corner. A smooth transition of footing later, Anzai remains standing without so much of a fall. "Who's there?" He borders hissing another language at the invisible company, discretely reaching into his robes for his wand. It was still in his trunk, he realized with a string of swears beneath his breath. But he didn't allow whoever was there to notice. And so he bluffed. "I do believe you have a reason for sneaking around while invisible, _strangers._ " Though barely there, Anzai the silvernette could feel three distinct auras of magic that slowly shifted away while he talked. He barely conceals a snarl and bites his tongue to walk away when he realized he isn't getting an answer. Because it's too late to deal with something that should be the professors' problems, not _his._

 

Minutes of silence later when the invisible moved down the hall, the same fiery red hair and freckled face lifts the cloak to poke his head out. "What's his problem?" Only to get thwacked over the head by the girl with untamed coffee brown locks. She huffs, sticking her head out as well. "He had a reason to be like that."

 

" _Hermione.._ " Ron whines, but she only shoos him off. Noticing the strangeness of her other friend's silence, Hermione turns her concerned attention towards the technical owner of the cloak they were all using and under."Harry? Is there something wrong?"

 

"... No." Harry starts softly, "I just recognized him from the two Valliere's earlier." While Ron wrinkled his nose in confusion, Hermione feels something click in her head. She _did_ notice the flickering of his eyes during the welcoming feast, of course. How could she call herself a friend if she didn't notice the small amounts of food he took every day and pushed him to eat more in return? "Oh. So that's who you were burning holes into in the Sorting?" He seemed not too put off about it, so she supposes she'll do that too.

 

The Weasley of the trio, however, had a different idea in his head and groaned, rubbing over the minor bruise she gave him a few moments ago. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." When the two, one muggle-born and another muggle-raised faced him dumbfounded, he sighs and adds, "Our pictures can move if they're developed properly." As Hermione sneaks a look to Harry's direction, she muses that the Valliere boy won't be the only one that's burning. Oddly foreign name or otherwise.

 

"No thanks. That's- that's creepy." Harry shot back weakly before motioning for the two to return beneath the cloak. They'd have to get back soon if they wanted any sleep at all.


End file.
